


Life Carries On

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-14
Updated: 2009-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:18:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10790166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Last fall JKR showed the Weasley family tree and we all learned that George married Angelina. How did those two come together? Here is their story.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** I want to thank Risiepookie for her help, encouragement, love and her ninja beta skills in the writing of my first ever multi-chaptered fic.

  
Author's notes:

 This story initially began as a "drabble" I had in my head, but George & Angelina had different plans and it grew to it's present length. This is the first of an 8-chapter fic of which I will update at least once a week.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was ironic that the sun was sparkling bright, spreading golden light, but Angelina’s heart felt heavy. She’d been attending funerals all week long, but this one, today’s, was the hardest.   
  
Angelina walked slowly up the hill, her feet inching step by step, knowing she didn’t want to see her former lov-no, friend, laid in the ground. She stopped for a moment to look around and saw a number of witches and wizards gathering together at the orchard for such the solemn occasion. Angelina could not go on any further; she couldn’t force her body to take a step closer.   
  
She looked over at the family whose bright red hair danced in the sunlight; she again noted the irony of such brilliant color through such heart-breaking sorrow. His mother was sobbing while wrapped up in her husband’s arm; his brother was next to her, his own likeness just staring at the coffin, lacking any expression. That, more than anything, brought more intense sorrow to Angelina’s heart, so deep that she physically grabbed her chest and she gasped for air.   
  
Angelina wasn’t sure she could take it. She badly wanted to leave, to flee, to mourn quietly. None of the family, outside of George, knew how close she and Fred had been. No one knew they were each other’s first love and that despite their on-again, off-again relationship, they always came together in the end because at the core was a friendship that could last.   
  
Angelina took a step backward, ready to leave. She would come back after the ceremony, after everyone had left and quietly say goodbye. Angelina started to turn, but felt a pull, as if someone were watching her, preventing her departure. She turned back to see George staring at her.   
  
In that moment, he looked exactly like Fred when she broke it off the first time and tears sprang to her eyes at the memory. She gave a small smile to George silently communicating her sympathy to him. With tears in his eyes, George smiled softly in return. He then slowly raised his hand, curled it into a fist and placed it against his heart while continuing to stare intensely at her. Angelina had forgotten that her hand was still grasping her shirt, looking for her heart. She looked down at her hand and then returned her eyes to George as tears began to flow in earnest.   
  
There was an intense feeling of connection that passed between the two of them as George’s own eyes flooded with tears, his hand grasping his own shirt looking for his heart. Before Angelina knew it, George had left his family and was striding towards her. Instinctually she opened her arms to welcome him when he reached her and they clung to each other as if their lives depended on it. Angelina couldn’t really explain the emotion surrounding her and George; it wasn’t as though they were very close, but something was pulling them towards each other and it felt good to share their collective pain.   
  
“I don’t want to be here,” George whispered in her ear.  
“Neither do I,” Angelina whispered back.   
  
George pulled back slightly from Angelina and they gazed into each other’s eyes. Blue watery eyes met amber watery eyes and they both knew what to do. In one fluid motion, Angelina swung her right arm down and turned around, still grasping George in the other. Together, arm in arm, they walked down the hill.


	2. Four Months Later

  
Author's notes: Thanks again to Risie for her ninja-beta skills.  


* * *

Angelina wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror with her hand and looked at her flushed face. She was excited because today was the beginning of the Quidditch season after a long dark year. All the gang was meeting up to watch an exhibition game between the Harpies and the Cannons. George was coming to Angelina’s flat first and they were going to meet up with everyone at the stadium.  
  
It had been four months since Fred’s funeral and she and George had developed a close friendship. They had spent many a day and night just talking. They were both excited for the outing as it was a welcome change from all the rebuilding the Wizarding world had been doing. Angelina was really looking forward to enjoying a great game of Quidditch with her best friends.  
  
Angelina grabbed her face moisturizer from the bathroom cabinet, opened it, put a dollop on her finger and began to spread it on her face. Just then she heard her front door open and she froze. Her eyes glanced at the clock. It couldn’t be George as he was not due for another half an hour. Angelina, wrapped in her towel, grabbed her wand off the bed and stationed herself at the ready by her bedroom door. Her arms and legs, tense from adrenaline, had not forgotten how to be ready to fight at a moments notice – not after only four months of peace.   
  
“Angelina?” came George’s voice. “Where are you?”  
      
Angelina relaxed her body, closing her eyes upon hearing George’s voice and gave a loud sigh. She breathed in and out slowly trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Almost too late her brain registered that she heard George say “bedroom” followed by his quickly paced footsteps moving ever closer to the door. Angelina opened her eyes, grabbed the door knob and turned to close the door, but it was too late. George was standing frozen in the doorway with his mouth open as if he were about to say something. The only movement of his body was his eyes, which traveled down to stare at Angelina’s towel. Angelina, too, was frozen with one hand on the doorknob, her other hand out in warning to stop George. They both stood there like statues gaping at each other. After what seemed like an eternity to Angelina, she regained her composure and shouted “George!”  
  
George’s eyes immediately snapped to hers and the trademark Weasley blush quickly spread across his face.  “I…you…umm,” he sputtered. He eventually pointed towards Angelina’s sitting room, turned and walked away. Angelina couldn’t help but chuckle as she closed the door. She leaned up against the door, closed her eyes and sighed because her heart had begun to flutter again, this time for an entirely different reason.  
  
*****----------------------------------*******-------------------------------------********----------------  
Angelina took one last look at herself in the mirror. She was wearing jeans with a white short-sleeve blouse that matched well with the V-neck jumper that she was bringing for later when it got cold. Her brown braids were long and flowing, a strong contrast to the constant ponytail or bun she’d worn everyday over the past four months with the rebuilding effort. Angelina swung her head from side to side, loving the carefree feeling her loose hair gave her. It was such a small thing, but it lightened her mood considerably. She gave herself one last smile, grabbed her jumper and headed to the living room. She found George sitting on her couch staring out at nothing and absentmindedly stroking the space where his ear had been. This was a curious habit he had developed since the funeral and she noticed he did it when he was troubled.   
  
“George,” she asked. “What’s wrong?”  
  
At the sound of her voice, George jumped quickly up and gave her a tight hug. With a huge smile that Angelina knew was a cover for what he was really feeling, he said, “Nothing. Nothing. Ready to go?”  
  
Angelina just eyed George trying to figure him out.  
  
“Really, nothing is wrong. I’m just excited, “ he said.  
  
Angelina sighed as she knew he wouldn’t talk until he was ready. “Okay, let’s go,” she said and grabbing his hand headed for the door.   
  
*****----------------------------------*******-------------------------------------********----------------  
The game had lasted four hours and then everyone headed to Oliver’s for some drinking and general debauchery. Angelina was plum tired, a little tipsy and ready to for bed and the jerky ride on the Knight Bus wasn’t helping. She glanced over at George who looked more pale than normal. Placing a hand on his arm, Angelina smiled at George.   
  
“Almost home,” he managed to squeeze out. “Did you have a great day?”  
  
“It was lovely,” she replied with a yawn to punctuate her state.   
  
The bus lurched to a stop and the fresh-faced conductor yelled “Rosewood Commons”. Angelina and George quickly jumped off the bus.  
  
“Thank goodness!” exclaimed George. “That felt like the never-ending ride and my stomach was about to turn.”  
  
“I know,” Angelina laughed. “I don’t know how much more I could take.” They continued to laugh as they walked up the steps to Angelina’s flat.  
  
Reaching her door, Angelina took out her wand to complete the series of taps that unlocked her door.   
  
“Angelina, wait,” said George as he placed his hand over hers. The tone of his voice was much deeper, huskier, and it set her heart racing. The air between them changed from light-hearted to crackling with tension. She looked into George’s face and was taken aback. His blue eyes had deepened to a sapphire color and had a piercing intensity to them. It was look Angelina had seen before – the first time Fred kissed her. She knew what was coming next and a small gasp passed through her lips. Puzzled by her response, George cocked his head to the right and suddenly she saw him as George again. Angelina’s heart picked up speed, yet she was frozen in place. Slowly but steadily, George stepped closer to her and before she knew it his hands were about her waist and he had pulled her body flush against his. She closed her eyes at the heat of his body and soon his lips were pressed against hers. Her lips parted in response and their kiss deepened. Angelina’s hands moved up George’s arms until they were resting on his shoulders. She gripped his shoulders and pulled him closer. It felt as if an electric current was moving between then.   
  
Angelina was in turmoil. Her body was eagerly responding, no participating, in one of the hottest kisses she’d ever had, but yet her brain was screaming that she stop. Her brain yelled that she was only kissing George because she missed Fred, but her body was telling her otherwise.  
  
George slowly swiveled her body until she was pinned up against the door. His lips had moved from hers as he placed hungry kisses along her jaw down to her neck. Angelina, her eyes still closed, threw her head back against the door, enjoying each sensation. George’s hand was now at her collarbone brushing her shirt aside and his other hand moved to her breast. This combined motion brought Angelina to her senses. She opened her eyes and used all of her slowly draining energy to push him away. His passion-filled, yet confused eyes bore into hers. He opened his mouth to say something, but Angelina felt tears coming to her eyes and knew she wouldn’t be capable of any conversation. She placed a finger on his lips and shook her head. With tears about to fall, Angelina did a small turn and Apparated to the other side of the door. She knew she shouldn’t have left in such a manner but she was at her breaking point. She leaned against the door, slid down into a sitting position, curled her arms around her knees, dropped her head down and let the tears flow.


	3. Aftermath of a Kiss

  
Author's notes:

I apologize for taking so long to post this. Real life just has a way of messing with the best intentions. Things have slowed down, so the rest of the story should return to coming weekly. 

 Also...please leave reviews. Feedback does a writer good!

 

 

* * *

_It had been a perfect night. Angelina felt beautiful in her long black gown and Fred was handsome in his dress robes. He had been such a gentleman all night, holding her hand gently, and getting her drinks when she wanted, but most of all, holding her close at every slow song as he was right now. Suddenly, he pulled away from her and motioned with his head, asking her to go outside. Angelina smiled demurely and nodded. With his hand on the small of her back, Fred guided her out the doors of the Great Hall and into the garden sparkling with fairy lights. They found a bench to sit on and, before Angelina knew it, Fred kissed her. Her head began swimming at the sensation. Abruptly, Fred broke off the kiss and had a look of anger about him. “My brother kisses better than me?!” he yelled._

Angelina’s eyes popped open as her body jerked awake. “Oh God,” she moaned as a fresh set of tears began to fall. The pale light that shone through her window told her that she had made it to morning on what was, for her, a darker night than she’d had in a while. The crying fits mixed in with the nightmares had kept Angelina awake most of the night; she felt like she was back to four months ago when she finally allowed herself to grieve after the battle.

Angelina moaned again as she buried her head in her pillow and curled into a tighter ball. Logically, she knew the dreams were just her guilt, but did it have to hurt so bad? It was just a moment of weakness and both of them got caught up. It didn’t mean anything, right? But it felt so good to be kissed, to be held, to be touched. Angelina’s body had been on fire and she knew what she wanted. She’d known what George wanted when she felt his erection against her. Her body tingled at the memory and she moaned in frustration again.

“This is not right!” she yelled to no one in particular. How could she feel this way for George when his brother – her lover – had so recently gone? This thought brought another set of fresh tears.

“Squit,” came a voice from her living room. Oh no. Not now, Angelina thought. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

“Squit, you home?” came the voice again.  Angelina grabbed her wand and with a flick at the bedroom door, she slammed it shut. She knew it wouldn’t keep out her sister, but she hoped her sister would get the message and leave her alone.

“Alohamora,” came her sister’s voice from the other side of the door. Nope, didn’t get the message, Angelina thought as her sister, Amelia, opened the door. “What’s up squit?” she asked as she walked through the door. Angelina, refusing to answer, flipped over to her other side, giving her back to her sister. Undeterred, Amelia came around to the other side of the bed. “Why are you still in bed? Mum’s worried now, you know,” she said, but upon seeing Angelina’s tear-stained face, she immediately changed her tone. Sitting on the bed, she brushed back Angelina’s hair and asked, “What happened?”

Angelina sighed and then choked out “George.”

“George?” Amelia asked.

“George,” Angelina said a little louder and clearer.

“What about George? Is everything okay? Did he have another breakdown?”  
      
“He kissed me.”

Amelia stopped caressing Angelina’s face to take a deep breath, her mouth forming a silent “oh”. The two sisters, so alike yet so different, sat in silence as each digested Angelina’s words.  
      
Amelia returned her gaze to her sister, cocked her head and asked, “That’s a bad thing because?”  
      
“It’s wrong.”  
      
“Why is it wrong?”  
      
“Because he’s Fred’s brother”  
      
“And how is that wrong?  
      
“Because. He’s. Fred’s. Brother!” Angelina shouted at her sister. Frustrated by Amelia, she sat up and slammed her hands on the pillow. “Ugh! It’s wrong because of my,” she gestured to herself, “relationship with Fred.  
      
Amelia, clearly confused, furrowed her eyebrows together. “I don’t understand, Angelina. You and Fred ended things years ago. It’s not as…”  
      
“That’s not entirely true, “ muttered Angelina interrupting her sister.  
      
“What?” Amelia whispered back, placing her hand over Angelina’s hands. “What’s not entirely true?”  
      
The tears that Angelina was fighting began to drip down. She scrunched up her eyes, willing the tears not to fall as what she was about to tell her sister she had not told another soul – not even George. With one last sigh and a wipe of her eyes with the back of her hand, Angelina began her tale.  
      
“We actually were off and on this entire time. The last time I saw him, before the battle that is, we ended up – you know. “ Angelina stopped, fluttering her hands instead of saying the word sex. Her sister just looked on. “Anyway, we decided that we wanted to make a real go of it and after the war was over we were going to get married. Of course,” and now the tears began to fall in earnest, “that didn’t happen.”  
      
“Oh hun,” was all Amelia said as she grabbed her sister and pulled her into a tight hug.  Angelina felt relieved to finally share her secret with someone and began to cry in earnest. Four months worth of tears came spilling out as Amelia held and rocked her sister.  
      
“Amelia, Angelina?” came a panicked voice from the other room. The two girls pulled back from each other, smiled and said in unison, “Mum.”  
      
“Get yourself cleaned up. I’ll take care of her,“ Amelia said as she stood up from the bed.  
      
“Amelia, Angelina?” their mother yelled again, this time closer. Amelia winked at her sister, then headed to the door, all the while yelling to her mother, “We’re in the bedroom.  Angelina will be out in a moment.”  
      
After the door was shut and Angelina heard her sister’s and mother’s voices leave, she took a breath to steady herself. Confessing to her sister lifted her heart and she finally felt that she could face the day.

*****----------------------------------*******-------------------------------------********----------------

It had been a long, exhausting week for Angelina. Though her job was temporary, she hoped, it was nonetheless emotionally exhausting. She worked in the War Recovery Department helping families reunite as well as get resettled. Thankful that her family had been spared during the war by hiding, Angelina felt the best way to show her gratitude was to give back to the Wizarding community. The job had many uplifting moments but at other times heartbreaking moments.  
      
Angelina closed the open file on her desk and, with a swish of her wand, sent it to the “closed” file drawer. Sighing she looked at the remaining stack on her desk. These were tough cases as there were numerous family members missing and the search was proving difficult. These were the cases that hurt her soul the most, despite the brief moments of joy like she had just moments ago: closing a case by reuniting a family of muggle-born children with their parents.  
      
“Stop looking so forlorn, Angelina. It’s time to celebrate,” her co-worker, Celinda Adams said pulling her out of her reverie.  
      
“I know, I know,” Angelina sighed again. “I’m just thinking about what we have coming up.”  
      
“Don’t do that to yourself.  Enjoy this moment,” she smiled. Then, leaning on Angelina’s desk and changing tactics she asked “Where’s dishy Weasley today?”  
      
The knife flew quickly into Angelina’s heart, but she worked to hide it. Spreading a fake smile Angelina answered, “We’re not meeting up tonight.” In fact, they hadn’t spoken all week, which added to Angelina’s foul mood. She and George would usually talk at least once a day and then have dinner together every Friday night. In fact, had their relationship not taken an uncomfortable turn George would probably be the one talking to Angelina right now, not Celinda.  
      
“Is there trouble in couple-land?” Celinda teased.  
      
Angelina took a deep breath to calm herself before she spoke. “I told you before, it’s not like that.”  
      
“Oh, really,” Celinda responded raising one eyebrow.  
      
“Yes, really, Celinda,” Angelina responded, getting annoyed.  
      
“It doesn’t seem like it. You should see the way you light up when he walks in here. Also, you have your daily chats. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t spoken to him all week, Angelina. You’ve been a different person.”  
      
Angelina had no response and sat there staring at her co-worker. She and George had definitely developed a close relationship over the past four months. They’d come to depend on each other and were the first person each would turn to in times of need. Had it really come to that and the kiss was just the first expression of a relationship that was moving in a different direction? NO! Angelina shook her head. That thought was wrong.  She was only having these feelings for George because she missed Fred. Right? Angelina looked up at Celinda’s smirking face.

“Whatever Celinda. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m going home now,” and with that Angelina grabbed her purse and headed towards the front door. Through the door’s glass windows she saw a lanky man topped with red hair standing at the bottom of the steps. Angelina’s heart skipped a beat. Had George decided to make the first move after all? The man turned around towards the door and Angelina’s heart sank. Ron was standing there, not George. Now what? Angelina thought as she continued to exit the building.  
      
Ron gave a slight smile to Angelina when he saw her walk through the door. “Hi Angelina,” he said.  
      
“Hi,” Angelina responded gripping the banister. Ron’s tone told her that he’d come for a serious conversation.  
      
“What’s going on with you and George?” he asked cutting straight to the chase. Angelina was taken back by his directness. The war had sure changed him, turned him from a boy into a man.  
      
Angelina sighed in response and took a step closer. Looking directly into his eyes she said, “It’s complicated, Ron.”  
      
“No it’s not. All I know is that Saturday George was the happiest I’d seen him since, well…and now he’s back to how he was the days after the war.” Ron struggled to get the last bit out and Angelina understood what wasn’t said. George had been acting like he did after Fred died.  
      
Angelina bowed her head trying to hold her tears at bay. She knew what she had to do – she had to be the one to make the first move. Mustering up strength from within, Angelina raised her head and said, “Take me to him.”


	4. Hustle & Bustle of Diagon Alley

  
Author's notes:

Thank you Melakem for all of your kind words and encouragment. It's a wonderful feeling to know people's responses to my work. I really, really appreciate it!

Enjoy this one! It's a doozy! This was my favorite chapter to write.  

 

 

* * *

Angelina hesitantly stepped up the stairs from Weasley Wizarding Wheezes to the twins, no George’s flat. She looked up at the door and remembered the first time she was here…  
      
 _Angelina could hear music blaring through the door. The party was obviously already in full swing. As if on cue, the door swung open revealing Fred’s smiling face.  
      
“Angelina! Finally!”  
      
Laughing, Angelina said “I did have to spend some time with my family you know. “  
      
“Family? Why spend time with family when you can party with us?” he teased, then pulled her into a hug – a hug of old friends.  
      
Pulling away, Fred swung an arm outward and said, “Welcome to our humble abode.”  
      
The flat appeared to have an open layout with a sitting room in the middle and all the other rooms situated directly off of it. “Come in, let me give you the tour,” Fred said as he closed the door behind them. Angelina laughed at Fred’s pomposity. They took about three steps in when Fred motioned to his left saying, “Here’s the kitchen.” The kitchen table was piled high with all sorts of foods and drinks.  
      
“Expecting a lot of people, Fred?” Angelina teased.  
      
“No, just expecting you lot to eat and drink to your hearts content,“ he teased back winking an eye.  
      
They then moved onto a closed door, which Fred pointed out was George’s room. They moved past that room to a door that was half-open and was clearly the bathroom. Finally, they headed to the last door. “And this is my room,“ Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows.  
      
Playing dumb, Angelina asked, “And why would I be interested in this room?”  
      
“Oh Angelina, don’t tease. Magical things happen here,” he teased back with more wiggling of the eyebrows.  
      
“Oi! You and your dirty mind!” Angelina laughed which brought a smile to Fred’s face. “If you really want me to see ‘magical things’ you can start by getting me something to drink.”  
      
“Right!” Fred answered and walked off towards the kitchen cutting across Lee, Alicia, and Katie who were sitting on the floor in the living room. Angelina looked around at everyone enjoying themselves. It felt like one of the Gryffindor parties of old. _  
      
Angelina placed her hand on the doorknob ready to turn it and then remembered the last time she was here…  
      
 _Fred and Angelina lay spent on the bed, their naked bodies glistening with sweat. She was on her back with her hair fanned out beneath her and he was on his side, head propped up with one hand while the other hand walked across her chest._  
      
“Fred,” Angelina sighed more than said. “What are we doing?”  
      
“Well, “he started,” I don’t know about you, but I’m having fun playing with your perfect tits.”  
      
Angelina opened her eyes and turned her head towards Fred. “You know that’s not what I meant. What are we…” she emphasized the we by gesturing between them, “doing?”  
      
Fred’s blue eyes darkened as he gazed into Angelina’s amber eyes. “I…” he started before a loud rumbling was heard. The crash of a building collapsing filled the room as well as the screams of people outside. They sat up quickly, looked at each other, and then jumped out of the bed. In what seemed like seconds both were dressed and running out of the room where they met George at the door to the shop.  
      
“Gringotts,” he yelled breathlessly. “Someone broke into and out of Gringotts!”  
      
“Merlin!” “What?!” Fred and Angelina said at the same time.  
      
“They escaped through the front on a dragon. The whole front of the building is gone.”

Knowing that Death Eaters would surely be on the scene soon and searching through Diagon Alley, Angelina stated matter-of-factly, “I have to go.”  
      
“So do we,” Fred and George said simultaneously. “George, can I have a minute?”  
      
“Sure,” he replied and walked into his room. Fred and Angelina turned towards each other to say goodbye.  
      
“I’ll lift the wards so you can apparate from here.”  
      
“Thank you,” Angelina whispered as Fred lifted his wand over his head while never moving his eyes from hers. He moved his wand in a series of figure-8’s, all the while mumbling under his breath.  
      
“Done,” he said when he stopped moving, but kept his wand in the air. “I love you Angelina and I want to be with you forever.”  
      
“You mean that?” Angelina whispered, realizing what Fred was meaning, as the intensity of the situation outside in Diagon Alley and her heart brought tears to her eyes.  
      
“Yes. When this war is over, do you want to give us a shot? Make us official?”  
      
Angelina stepped closer to Fred, put her hand to his cheek, and softly brushed her lips against his. “Yes,” she whispered. “I love you, too,” she said as she gave him another kiss. She stepped back, took in Fred’s beaming face, thought of the back door to her aunt’s cottage and disapparated.  
      
Angelina continued to take deep breaths gathering courage to turn the knob and walk through the door. Since that last day, she hadn’t returned to the flat, as it had been too painful. Angelina suspected George knew how she felt, because he had never invited her over, always choosing her flat or a neutral location. And now, now, all that was to change.

Angelina gathered the last of her courage, turned the knob and pushed the door open. She took a step in and looked around. The flat did not look any different. The door to Fred’s room was open and she could see some of his stuff still there. Propelled by some unseen force, Angelina walked to Fred’s room to get a closer look. She stopped at the doorway, putting both her hands on the door jam to hold herself steady. Fred’s room, in fact, looked exactly the same as the last time she was here. Nothing had been moved. Odd, she thought. She was about to step into the room to get a closer look when George’s door opened and he stepped out. He didn’t see her and walked into the kitchen. Angelina turned her body around but still stayed inside the door jam. She wasn’t sure if she should say something or just wait until he saw her. Either way, she knew she would startle him. She heard him open the cupboard, grab a glass or cup, and turn on the water faucet. Angelina continued to argue with herself until she heard, “Shit Angelina!” causing her to jump herself.

“What the hell are you doing here?” George yelled at her. Angelina, startled by George’s tone, froze and took in his appearance. He looked horrible. He clearly hadn’t shaved in a couple days, as he had a light patch of stubble growing around his chin. His hair was sticking up in many directions suggesting he had just woken up. His rumpled shirt and shorts only reinforced the notion.

“I, um, Ron asked me to come by,” Angelina whispered as her right hand clutched her chest. George was frozen in mid-stance as well, holding his cup of water out in front of him. They both looked like statues facing off towards each other.

“Bullshit! Ron wouldn’t do that,“ he threw back nastily at her.

Now Angelina was mad. She threw her arm down and stalked to George. “He sure did and I can see why. If you’re yelling at me for just showing concern for a friend, I can only imagine what you’re doing to him!”

George took a step back from Angelina as he knew her fire when she was angry, but he wasn’t about to back down.

“Why would you care? You were the one who ran from me?”

“I wasn’t running from you! I…”

“Really?” George interrupted. “It seemed like it to me. Not a word, just apparated to Merlin knows where, and left me standing like a fool. That doesn’t sound like a caring friend to me, Angelina!”

“What? A caring friend? You. Kissed. Me. Remember? What ‘friend’ would do that specifically knowing about me and Fred?” Angelina spat back loudly. George’s face seemed to break into a million different pieces and his face, red from anger, was instantly wet with tears. Appearing horrified at his show of vulnerability, he dropped his cup and ran past her into his room, slamming the door behind him.

“Oh no you don’t!” Angelina yelled and ran after him. She tried to open the door and found it locked. Knowing George, a simple alohamora wouldn’t work. This added to her frustration and anger. “George,” Angelina screamed while pounding on the door. “George, open this door right now!” Angelina’s screams and tears mixed with her turbulent emotions from the week created an almost temper tantrum-like response to George’s flight.

“George, open the door!” she screamed one last time, sliding to the floor. Suddenly, the door exploded out from beneath her hands leaving both of them staring at the other stunned.

“How did you do that?” George asked.

“I think it was accidental magic. I didn’t realize I was that worked up, “ Angelina responded.

“Remind me to never let you get that upset again, “ George joked and they both laughed.

Sniffling, Angelina wiped her tears off her face with her sleeve and said, “I guess we got a bit carried away there, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. I think we rivaled Ron and Hermione, “ George chuckled as he left the bed to help Angelina up.

The minute she grasped his hand, the same electric feeling she’d had a week before returned. Angelina realized just how much she missed him and how much he meant to her. By the look on George’s face, she knew he was thinking the same thing.

“Come on. Let’s go for a walk,” George suggested.

“Yeah, I think that would be a good idea.”

“Let me get changed and we’ll go,“ said George as he guided her to the couch.

While George showered and changed, Angelina tried to sort out her feelings. She recognized that something was growing between them, but she didn’t know if it was genuine or because she missed Fred. Dealing with Fred’s death had clearly been easier to deal with because of George’s presence and Angelina knew the same was true for him as well. They’d truly become each other’s rock. Was Saturday’s kiss a natural progression or a moment of weakness by two lonely people? Was this something she wanted? She honestly didn’t know.

She jumped again when she felt two large hands squeeze her shoulders. Angelina quickly stood up and turned to face him. “George, not now. Please,” she begged softly not wanting to start another row.

“I’m sorry. Despite earlier, I am happy to see you Angelina,” George smiled back at her. “Shall we go?” She nodded and he led her out the door, down the steps and into the crisp September air.

*****----------------------------------*******-------------------------------------********----------------

The hustle and bustle of a Friday evening in Diagon Alley surrounded Angelina and George, but they were lost in their own world. The walked together but each was isolated within his or her own thoughts as they watched shoppers come in and out of stores.

“So, how was work this week?” George asked benignly.

“Hmmm?” Angelina responded turning her head in George’s direction. “Oh, it was good. Solved another case today. A happy ending and the Jenkins family reunited.”

“That’s great, Angelina! You should be happy.”

“I am, but I’ll be more happy when all of my cases are closed. It often feels like we’ll never see the end of it.”

George stopped, grabbed Angelina by the shoulders and turned her towards him. “You are doing good work, Angelina. Remember that. Think about how much progress you’ve made; don’t dwell on the negatives. “ George’s eyes were full of the optimism, that she knew so well. She sighed. She’d missed this feeling between them and she wanted it back. Angelina decided that now was the time to confront their issue.

“George, why did you kiss me?” she blurted out. George’s smile quickly left his face and he dropped his hands from her shoulders. It was now his turn to sigh as he looked away and ran his right hand through his hair.

“Angelina, I honestly don’t know. I keep replaying the moment in my mind and the only answer I can come up with is that it felt right.”

Angelina didn’t know how to respond, so she bowed her head to avoid George’s eyes. She could agree with him, yet she felt it was wrong at the same time. She raised her head to meet his pleading eyes. “I can understand because it felt right and wrong at the same time. “ She turned her head away as she felt tears stinging her eyes. She bit her lip to try to compose herself, but it didn’t help. Taking a deep breath, Angelina returned her gaze to George.

“George, I’m not over Fred yet,” she stated quietly and matter-of-factly as a new batch of tears began to flow. Angelina knew what she had to say next would break George’s heart, but he had to know.

“That day, you know, of Gringotts? Fred and I promised each other we would…we would be together after the war, officially.”

“Officially? Angelina everyone knew you and Fred were seeing each other again.”

“No, you don’t understand. Officially as in marriage.” Angelina watched George’s eyes change from light to dark and his face redden, as he comprehended her words. “Oh, George, I’m so sorry I never told you. I couldn’t. It was too hard.“

Almost to himself, he murmured, “So that’s what he wanted to tell me.”

“What?”

“Fred said he had something to tell me - he was so happy, but everything moved so fast after that and then…” George stopped as his own tears choked him up.

Angelina and George stood there, engulfed in their own sadness and tears amid busy people ending their day buying last minute items or meeting up to dine with friends. Passersby looked at them with sympathy as this sight was not uncommon in Diagon Alley. Many were caught up in moments of sadness and cried openly in the street. Often, some kind soul would inquire if the downhearted person needed assistance. In their case, a sweet old woman was the much-needed soul to help the pair out of their melancholic reverie.

“Can I help you two somewhere?” came a soft soothing voice that startled both George and Angelina out of their thoughts. They turned to look at the kind smiling face and then looked at each other.

“No ma’am,“ George responded. “We’re fine. Thank you.” With a nod, the kind old lady walked away.

“Angelina, I need some time alone. Will you be okay getting home?” George asked as he started to walk away.

Grabbing his arm, Angelina said, “George, wait. I needed to tell you that because I wanted you to know why I left you that night. I don’t know how I feel about you. I value your friendship, but I don’t know if what I feel is because of you or because I miss Fred.” Angelina paused, then whispered, “I don’t want it to be because of Fred.”

For the first time in her life Angelina couldn’t read George’s face. He had closed himself off from her.

“George, say something. Please. Don’t shut me out. Not now,” Angelina pleaded tears streaming again.

A slow smile came across his face. “I won’t, Angelina. I just need…” he stopped and looked at Angelina’s hand on his arm. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a tight hug. His hands then moved to embrace both sides of her head. Bringing his head closer to her he said, “We both need time.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips, another on her forehead and then turned and walked away.

Stunned, Angelina watched him get lost in the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley.


	5. Not Just Another Day

  
Author's notes:

 A big THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed. I truly appreciate your kind and encouraging words.

This chapter is a bit different, but its setting up for a lovely payoff. We're coming to the finish line, only 2 more chapters and then the epilogue after this. Enjoy.  

* * *

Tap Tap Tap TapTapTap

Angelina unburied herself from her covers to look at her window. She groaned as the clear sound of an owl tapping at her window brought her from a good dream. She dragged herself out of bed muttering, “It’s a bit early for work” as the early morning light shined through her curtains. Angelina brushed open her curtains and yelled in surprise. Instead of a ministry owl, cute little Pig was there flapping away.

“Good morning, Pig,” she said as she opened the window to let the little flutterer in. He flew over to her bed table, his shining eyes looking at her expectedly.

“It’s a bit early, isn’t it?” she laughed as she untied a weighty letter from his leg. Angelina kept a small bowl of owl treats on her desk, so she picked up Pig and placed him by the bowl. He hungrily buried his head in the food while Angelina laughed at him as she opened the letter.  
 _ **  
Angelina,**_

_**I know it’s early, but I have yet to sleep. I thought all night about our talk yesterday. I’m not upset about you and Fred – in fact I should have known. If you two weren’t fighting the war, you were together. No, that is not what surprised me. It was that Fred was able to keep such thoughts from me. Not that he wasn’t going to tell me, but that he was even thinking marriage. He never mentioned it was a possibility and I believed we to be two bachelors enjoying our success – and fighting a war of course. To realize you are falling for your brother’s fiancée is a lot to take in. I am sorry if I made you feel less than the wonderful person you are. I want to see you. Care to fly this afternoon? Meet at our usual place at three? Pig will not leave until I get a yes from you.** _

_**George** _

Angelina’s eyes were watery once again by George’s letter. She held it tightly to her chest as if to feel the love coming through the parchment. Pig’s fluttering wings next to her ear moved Angelina into action. She grabbed her favorite black feather tipped quill and ripped a piece of parchment she had lying on the desktop and quickly scribbled,  
 _ **Yes! See you at three!**_

Angelina watched Pig fly off until he was just a spec on the horizon. She was happy to have her relationship, somewhat, back with George. Smiling, Angelina walked to the kitchen to prepare her breakfast. No sooner had she reached up to open the cupboard door came another tap at her window. She looked over and saw the owl she was expecting. A beautiful tawny Ministry owl was waiting – which meant only one thing – it was time to go to work. Angelina opened the window and the bird majestically stepped through then held out its foot. She untied the letter from its leg and the bird promptly turned to fly off. Apprehensively, Angelina opened the letter. She knew that the newly rebuilt Auror Squad was performing an early morning raid on what they believed to be a Death Eater hiding spot. The fact that she received this letter so early meant the squad had been successful and had found people.

     _ **Ms. Johnson  
        Raid successful. Many civilians found. Report to office in 30 minutes.  
                                    Auror Carraby**_

 Angelina sighed, her good mood now gone, as she knew what the day had in store for her.  
________________******________________________*********_________________________

“We successfully raided a Death Eater stronghold and discovered a dungeon filled with prisoners, “ Auror Carraby stated matter-of-factly. “The scene is horrible, people, that is why we called all of you in.”

Every member of the “Locator” staff had been called in, which was highly unusual. Usually only the on-call members would be sent for. The fact that everyone was there led Angelina to believe their work would be long and arduous. She hoped that many of the people found would be alive and she would be able to contact families with good news. She hoped, but knew realistically that that wouldn’t be the case. Especially with everyone called in. That meant there were lots of people and many would be dead.

“St. Mungo’s is already there helping the sick and injured. I won’t lie, there are a number of dead too. We need you to take all of your identification books to help us identify and then do what you do best. You will be split into teams to identify the living and the dead. Go get your books and we’ll announce the teams when you return.”

Everyone was quiet, as no one wanted to identify the dead. Everyone had lost a loved one during the war and identifying the dead brought up all those feelings. Angelina especially didn’t want the horrid job – not right now. She grabbed her identification book filled with all the pictures of the missing. It felt heavy in her hands. As she placed the book in her satchel, a movement on her desk caught her eye. The picture of Angelina with her baby niece caused her to smile and she remembered why she was doing this. She then noticed a picture frame lying with it’s back up. She sighed as she realized it was the picture of her and George that she had turned down earlier in the week. She lifted it up gently and smiled at the memory. It was a recent picture of the two of them at the pond near the Burrow. The family had a picnic and she and George had gone swimming. In the picture they were playing in the water. They were laughing and splashing water at Ron who had taken the photo. Angelina smiled at the love she saw expressed between two friends enjoying each other and the moment. She thought of the next time she would see George and…

“Oh George!” she exclaimed suddenly. She quickly grabbed a piece of parchment, jotting down…  
   __**George,**  
        Got called in. Save that flight for later. I’ll see you this evening?

Grabbing her satchel and the letter, Angelina quickly ran to the secretary who would stay at the office fielding any floo calls.

“Alice, can you please owl this to George for me,” she asked.

“No problem, Angelina,” she replied placing the letter on her cluttered desk.

“Thanks so much,” Angelina said as she walked away.

When she walked into the conference room there was an argument brewing between Auror Carraby and Adam Wilson.

“What’s going on?” Angelina whispered to Celinda.

“Oh Angelina. You were put on the dead detail and Adam is trying to get you off of it. He doesn’t think you should do it, but Carraby won’t budge.”

Shocked that she was put on the one job she didn’t want to do, Angelina steeled herself for the task ahead. If she was to identify the dead, she wanted to get it over and done with the sooner the better. “We don’t have time for this. I’ll go do it if it will get us there faster.”

Celinda turned her head, eyes alarmed at Angelina. “Are you sure? You think you’re up to it?”

“No, but someone has to, right?” she concluded. She then lifted her chin up to gather her courage and strode over to the two men.

“Ahem,” Angelina interrupted.

“Yes, Ms. Johnson?” Carraby tersely asked.

“I’ll take the job,” Angelina said plainly, looking directly into Carraby’s eyes.

A look flashed over Carraby’s face as though an ugly thought came to his head about Adam, but he refused to say it.

“Good then. Let us leave at once. Here are your portkeys,” he said as he held up a brush and a paperweight in his hand.

Angelina grabbed the paperweight and strode over to where Celinda and two others stood.

“It will activate in one minute.” Carraby said. At his words, Angelina’s heart began to race. She didn’t enjoy these missions as it always broke her heart to see people sick and broken. On the other hand, she enjoyed the warm feelings of being able to inform a family that one of their loved ones was alive. Today would not hold such joy. She would be identifying the dead.  No happy endings for these families.

To calm herself, Angelina began to take deep breaths. She looked into Celinda’s eyes just before the portkey activated. Celinda’s eyes were full of concern for Angelina. They pleaded with Angelina to change her mind. She shook her head subtly just as the familiar pull of the portkey began their journey to what horrors they could only imagine.  
_________________********__________________*******_______________________

Angelina landed roughly falling forward on her hands and knees. She had been distracted, giving herself courage to face the day that she forgot to prepare for the landing. Thankfully, since everyone else was of the same mindset, Adam just held out a hand to help her up.

“Thanks, “ she said tersely and then walked away to find Auror Carraby.

She took a good look around at her surroundings. They were at what appeared from the outside a modest country home. Had she not known what horrors the house held, she would have liked it. The house was of the old Tudor style and had a simple front garden. The garden, now however, was swarming with St. Mungo’s healers who had erected a tent to deal with the sick and injured. Angelina could see a number of cots and people in various stages of health. Some were laying down quiet, others were moaning in pain, while more were crying with joy. Angelina was shocked – there must have been at least 40-50 people found! Angelina’s next thought scared her. If there were that many people alive, then…

“Auror Carraby,” she asked hesitantly. “How many dead are there?”

“Actually not many,” he responded lightly. “This group of Death Eaters took care of their prisoners. A few of the dead, however, must have been people who fought back. Ms. Johnson, I’ll be honest with you; it’s not pretty.”

They arrived at the huge wooden door that had char marks due to recent fight.

“Watch your step. We believe the foundation to be shabby in a few places. The departed were discovered in a lower anteroom. Follow me.”

Angelina carefully stepped through the threshold following Carraby and Robert Harris, the other agent assigned with her. Debris laid everywhere. Furniture in pieces, a chandelier hung precariously from the ceiling, and shards of stained window glass covered the floor. It was clear the Aurors held a fierce battle in this house.

Angelina followed Carraby through a door that opened to what looked like a dark staircase. “Lumos,” he said and Angelina and Robert followed. The ceiling was low making Carraby and Robert stoop forward. Angelina’s head came just to the top, but she nonetheless held her left hand up to the ceiling for balance. The ceiling felt cool under her touch.

The threesome’s wands left an eerie glow as they traveled deeper and deeper under ground. The temperature began to chill a bit at the same time a strong stench arose. Angelina stopped. She didn’t think she could continue.

“Are you okay, Angelina?” Robert kindly asked behind her. Not wanting to open her mouth, Angelina shook her head. The smell of bodies had gotten to her and she wasn’t sure if she could go on.

“Put a bubble head charm on her,” barked Carraby who was much further down.

“Burbujos” Robert whispered and instantly Angelina breathed in better air. Taking a deep breath, she continued down the stairs. She followed the remnants of Carraby’s light as he entered a room.

Inside she saw about 20 bodies covered with a soft fabric. Angelina smiled at the care the Aurors did in prepping the bodies.

“Ms. Johnson, Mrs. Harris, work swiftly as we would like to bury these poor souls as soon as we can,” Carraby ordered.

“What? You’re not going to allow the families a chance to see them?” Robert protested.

“No. They need to be buried quickly. Inform the families that a memorial service will be held here instead.”

“But, sir,”

“No buts. It has been decided.”

Angelina watched the transaction between the two men with interest. Robert had been the one to identify many dead bodies and been the one who was the most help to the families. Angelina understood his protests, but felt powerless as it was taking all of her strength to hold herself together.

“Ms. Johnson, you begin at this end,” Carraby said pointing to his right. “And Mr. Roberts, you begin at that end. Both of you work your way to the center.”

Angelina only nodded her acquiescence and moved towards the right side of the chamber. She stood in front of a covered body. She could tell the body was a male and an image of Fred dashed before her eyes.

No! It’s not Fred! She screamed in her head. Taking two long breaths Angelina kneeled down and reach out her hand to lift the fabric. She grasped the silk-like fabric in her hand and froze.

“Just lift it. Just lift it,” she chanted in her head. Slowly she pulled the fabric back inch-by-inch and the man’s face was revealed. He had sandy brown hair that hung over his face and was matted in some areas. He had a square jaw and an aquiline nose that had he been alive would have made him very handsome. Thankfully someone had closed his eyes saving Angelina from having to face a departed soul. He appeared to be the same age as Angelina and her heart sank. Taken so young, she thought as she stared at the man.

“Ms. Johnson,” Carraby said softly over her shoulder.

“Yes. I’m sorry,” she replied and pulled the book from her satchel.  She opened it to the section for young men and began to gaze at photos of happy people that family members had provided. She studied the young man’s face again and returned to her book. She stopped at a picture of two young men laughing at whoever had taken the photo. It appeared they were at some Quidditch match dressed in the purple & gold colors of the Pride of Portree. Angelina studied the face of the man in the left of the picture. She looked once more at the body, then returned to the picture. This was the man, his name was Randolph Kirk.

“Mr. Randolph Kirk lies here,” Angelina said in the required fashion of her department. She pulled out a certificate to write down his name. When she was done she covered Mr. Kirk’s face and stood up to give Carraby the death certificate. He solemnly walked over and took the certificate from her hands.

Angelina took a step to the next body and suddenly found herself dropping through the floor. It felt like slow motion as Angelina screamed in surprise and her wand flew out of her hands. Her legs hit the ground with a sickening crunch and she felt blinding pain. Another yell escaped her lips as she threw out her left hand to catch the rest of her body but instead felt a piercing stab through her hand and a “thwap” as her head hit the stone floor. Tears of excruciating pain flooded Angelina’s eyes. She opened them a little and saw a blurry darkness. The last thing Angelina remembered seeing was what appeared to be a log heading straight for her head.


	6. A Family Visit

  
Author's notes:

Again, thank you all for reading my little story and leaving the positive reviews. It does a writer's heart good. Enjoy this next installment! It's a bit different and I think you will like it. 

 

 

* * *

George sat underneath the poplar tree watching the orange sun begin its slow descent. He missed the beauty of the moment as he was seething in anger. _Damn her. I can’t believe she stood me up. Some friend_ , he thought with much bitterness. _Forget her. I’m outta here._  
  
George stood up, brushed off his legs and grabbed his broom. _At least flying home will feel good_. He kicked off the ground and ascended into the air. It had been a beautiful day and was turning into a beautiful evening. The sun was fully descended as George landed outside WWW.  
  
“Hello Verity,” he said as he walked in and headed straight for the back room.  
  
“George!” she shouted stopping him. “Ron’s been looking everywhere for you.”  
  
“Oh really? What for?”  
  
“He won’t tell me. It’s urgent though.”  
  
“Well, when he returns, I’ll be in the workroom,” George responded and continued to his destination.  
  
Whenever he was troubled he would usually go into his workroom and lose himself for hours. Since Fred’s death, however, this had been difficult. He would now force himself to go in at least two hours everyday. George gazed at his brother’s desk as he always did when he entered the room. Fred’s desk still had all of his stuff, just like his room, as he couldn’t bear to part with his brother’s things. His family had been trying, especially Ron, but George would fight them tooth and nail. Angelina was actually present at one fight and was the voice of reason. After that, his family had left him alone.   
  
“I don’t know, Fred,” he said aloud. “I can’t understand why she would stand me up like that.” George sighed. His rational mind knew he could be considered crazy for speaking aloud to his brother, but it helped him hold onto Fred that way. “I know she’s your girl Gred, but I can’t help falling for her. I wish I knew what she was thinking.”  
  
He picked up a piece of parchment that was lying on Fred’s desk. It appeared to be notes for a new taffy formula. George chuckled at the genius that was his brother. “Guess I’ll work on this,” he laughed and went to sit down at his desk.  
  
No sooner had he made himself comfortable,  Ron come bursting through the door. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” he said excitedly.  
  
“Well, here I am. What’s so important?”  
  
“Angelina. She’s been hurt!” At Ron’s words, George leapt out his seat, ran to Ron and grabbed his shoulders.  
  
“What? What happened?”  
  
“Harry told me that the Locator Squad was called in for a morning raid. She was apparently identifying dead bodies and fell through the floor into another dungeon. She’s at St. Mungo’s right now. He thought you should know.”  
  
“Thank him for me, will you?,” George said as he sprinted out the workroom and up the stairs to his flat. He stopped in front of the fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it in the fireplace.   
  
“St. Mungo’s!” he yelled and felt the familiar twirling of traveling by floo.  
  
St. Mungo’s reception area was busy as always. In his excitement, George nearly tripped out of the fireplace. He stumbled but caught himself and ran to the reception desk.  
  
“Angelina Johnson! Where is she?” he nearly shouted while gripping the edges of the counter.   
  
“Just a minute, sir,” the receptionist calmly replied. George tapped his left foot impatiently while the receptionist looked through her book. “Oh I’m sorry. It says family only,” she said giving him a smile full of pity.  
  
“I’m her fiancée,” George blurted out.  
  
“Oh, okay then. Third floor, room 322. I’ll call the medi-witch to know to expect you.”

  
“Thanks,” George said as he sprinted for the stairs too impatient to wait for a lift. He arrived at the floor just as a medi-witch was coming out the glass doors and he squeezed through.   
  
“Sir, you can’t be here,” said an old grey-haired medi-witch.  
  
“That’s okay," another corrected her. “He’s the fiancée.”  
  
At the word “fiancée” Angelina’s parents, her sister and her brother-in-law all turned their heads in George’s direction. He felt like he had a spotlight on him and he stood there with a goofy grin on his face. Angelina’s mother, a beautiful older version of Angelina, had a look of surprise as her mouth created an “oh” shape. Her father looked angry while her brother-in-law looked confused. Lastly, Amelia gave George a stern look that rivaled his mother.  
  
Just then, the healer emerged from Angelina’s room and everyone’s attention shifted to him. The healer took a second to take in everyone’s anxious looks before smiling. “I have good news. She’s going to be okay. Tonight will be rough, but if she pulls through, she will be fine.”  
  
Everyone gave a collective sigh of relief as Angelina’s parents hugged each other and Ameila’s husband squeezed her shoulders since she was holding the baby. George, unable to hug anyone, ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“Can we see her?” Mrs. Johnson asked.  
  
“Of course, but only two at a time. I must warn you, she looks worse than she is. We were able to set both of her ankles and her left wrist to allow the bone-mending potion to do its work properly. Both legs and arms have been immobilized to prevent her from moving.  The fracture at the base of her skull is healing, but we need to watch the brain swell. I’m confident the swelling will lessen as the night progresses. I’ve given her a pain potion and a deep sleep draught. She won’t respond to you but she’ll know you are there.”  
  
With that, he opened the door and Angelina’s parents entered the room. Amelia handed little Sasha to her husband and quickly walked towards George. She motioned with her head for him to follow and proceeded to walk out the glass doors to the staircase. George followed feeling like a lamb to the slaughter.  
  
“What the hell are you playing at George?” she demanded.  
  
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I meant no harm; it just blurted out.”  
  
“Really? Just blurted?”  
  
“Really. I was so scared and when the receptionist said family only, it came out. I honestly mean no harm. I care too much,” George stopped and stammered. If he was honest with himself he more than cared for Angelina. He loved her. “I think I’m falling in love with your sister,” he admitted.  
  
Amelia was quiet as she took in George’s words. After what seemed like an eternity to him, a slow smile spread across her face.   
  
“Good. Okay, then.”  
  
“Okay?” he questioned, not fully understanding her response.   
  
‘Okay then, you nutter. Let’s go see my sister,” she laughed grabbing his arm to pull him back to the chairs outside Angelina’s room.   
  
They all sat there in silence, except for Sasha’s cooing, waiting for Angelina’s parents to return.   
  
Eventually the door opened and Angelina’s parents stepped out. Her mother was trying to contain her tears as her husband physically surrounded her with love. Amelia leaned over to George and whispered, “I’ll take care of them.”  
  
Startled, George turned to her “You sure?”  
  
“Yes,” she said as she nudged him with her shoulder. “Go on,” then loudly, “I think George should go next.”  
  
Her parents, once together in worry, looked at their eldest daughter together in ire. George slowly stood up tapping his hand on his thighs unsure of moving.   
  
“Mom, Dad, I’ll fill you in. Let George go in,” Amelia, ever the diplomat, said.  
  
Never taking his eyes off George her father said, “I trust you, Amelia” and then nodded at George. He gave a small nod in response and quickly rushed into the room. The door hit him in the back as George stood in the doorway, his heart in his throat.   
  
His lovely Angelina lay still and bruised. She was on her back with both legs stretched out, each leg hooked up to what looked like a medieval apparatus. Her left arm was hooked up to one as well. Logically, George knew it was to prevent her from moving as her body healed but it looked painful all the same.   
  
Her head was turned to the side and chunk of her glorious hair was missing. There was a bandage there as well as a soft pink orb glowing above it. He guessed it was how the healers were monitoring Angelina’s brain swell.  
  
There was a soft bruise on the side of her face that was in various stages of healing. The same amount of bruising was visible on her right arm. The healer was right. She did look bad and tears escaped George’s eyes.   
  
“Come and talk to her,” a gentle voice came from the corner of the room. Startled, George looked at the medi-witch. She was sitting beneath a soft light knitting what looked to be a sweater. “I’m Medi-witch Lewis. You must be the fiancée. Would you like a moment alone?”  
  
“Um,” George sputtered. He could not find the words he wanted. Eventually he was only able to nod and Medi-witch Lewis slipped out the room through a side door. George slowly made his way to Angelina’s bedside. He pulled up a chair and sat down facing her right side.   
  
Tentatively he reached out, brushing his fingertips along Angelina’s arm until he reached her hand, grasping it in his. He stared at the hand that was so still when he was used to seeing it so full of life. He looked up to her face and marveled at her beauty despite the bruising. Her lips were a soft rose color and George couldn’t help but lean forward and place a small kiss.   
  
“Angelina,” he sighed against her lips, then softly kissed her once more. At the same time, the hand he was holding squeezed his, causing George to sit up straight.   
  
“Angelina?” he questioned a bit louder but there was not a response. His knew it was probably just a reflex in her sleep, but he hoped it was much more.   
  
He leaned forward again and whispered in her ear, “Dreaming of me, love? I hope so.” George chuckled at his joke, wishing Angelina could laugh with him. How he wished he could see her sparkling amber eyes.   
  
“Angelina,” he practically breathed in her ear. “I came to a decision about our chat yesterday. I love you and I want to be with you. It’s not wrong what we feel. You know it as well as I do. So, my love, get well so you can love me.” He placed gentle kisses on her ears, her closed eyes, her nose and ended at her lips. He paused, waiting for the hand to squeeze again, but it did not come.   
  
George leaned back in the chair, gazing at Angelina. With his other hand he stroked what was left of her hair and lost himself in thoughts of her.   
________________*********________________________**********__________________  
  
“George,” he heard while feeling a shove to his right shoulder. “George, wake up!”  
  
George opened his eyes to find dark brown ones facing him causing him to jerk his body awake.   
  
“Amelia?”  
  
“Yeah! I’d like to see my sister now,” she said sarcastically.   
  
“Sorry, I must have fallen asleep,” he murmured. “I think I’ll head to the cafeteria,” he said standing up and stretching.   
  
“No,” Amelia countered. “You should go home and get some sleep.”  
  
George smiled. “Nope. I’m the fiancée, remember,” he said and punctuated with a wink. “Besides,” he added seriously, “I need to be here. For my own sanity.”  
  
Understanding fully what he meant, Amelia nodded and watched him walk out the door.  
  
George met Angelina’s parents on the other side of the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, I’m sorry for any confusion earlier. I care for your daughter very much. I meant no harm.”  
  
Mr. Johnson smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, son. Amelia told us everything.”  
  
George felt relieved. “I’m going to the cafeteria. Would either of you like anything?”  
  
Now it was Mrs. Johnson’s turn to smile. “Are you planning to stay the whole night, George?”  
  
“Yes,” he replied quietly.  
  
“Then our daughter is in good hands. Thank you for the offer, but we’re going to see her once more and then go home.”  
  
“Go get some tea, son. You need your rest,” Mr. Johnson added.  
  
Smiling, George walked towards the ward doors. He smiled as he walked at her parent’s understanding, her recovery, but mostly he smiled at the fact he was a man in love. 


	7. Awakenings

  
Author's notes:

Well, this is it. Basically the end of this little story. Just the epilogue to go. Again, thank you all for reading this and enjoying my words.

 

 

* * *

Angelina slowly came to consciousness and felt an achy feeling all over her body. Her body was still asleep so she moved it bit by bit. She started by wiggling her toes, then squeezing her calf and thigh muscles. She contracted her stomach and squeezed her hands. She stopped there, because of the soft flesh she felt in her right hand. Confused, Angelina slowly blinked open her eyes.

As the world came into color, she saw bright red hair sticking up everywhere, laying at an awkward angle. George lay in a chair next to her fast asleep. He was leaning back with his legs sprawled everywhere, but his hand was firmly grasping her right hand. A slow smile crept across her face at the realization of George by her side.

“George,” she croaked out. He murmured and moved, but didn’t waken. “George,” she said a little louder, her voice breaking as her throat felt like sand paper. The creak in her voice caused George to open his eyes. Blue met amber and he smiled.

“Hey sleepyhead.”

“It wasn’t a dream, then, “she whispered.

“What wasn’t?”

“I dreamt about you.”

George’s eyes twinkled with delight. “It wasn’t a dream. I’ve been here all night.” He then leaned forward and kissed Angelina’s forehead. “You gave us a right scare, you did.”

Angelina thought about her dream as George kissed her head. “You said you loved me.”

George leaned back to look deep into her eyes. His earlier mirth now mixed with a bit fear.

“Can I have some water?”

“Oi, woman!” he exclaimed while laughing at the same time. He promptly stood up and went to the counter to pour her a cup of water. He returned, sitting down in front of her, holding the cup with it’s bendy straw just out of reach. He smiled deviously at her. “Well…”

“George,” she softly whined. “Come on.”

Chuckling George held the straw to her lips so she could drink. Angelina felt like she hadn’t had water in ages and, lifting her head a little, she sucked all the water out of the straw.

“Thank you,” she said as she closed her eyes. She heard George stand back up and put the cup back on the counter. Angelina was really buying time, as she wasn’t sure what to say in response to him. All she knew was that she was happy George’s face was the first thing she saw.  She felt his eyes on her as he returned to his seat and she smiled. She was a still a bit drowsy and didn’t feel like having a deep conversation.

“I guess I don’t look too pretty, eh?” she asked.

“I’m not going to lie to you Angelina, but you are still beautiful to me.”

She opened her eyes at his bold comment. She knew that once George made a decision, he stuck to it and pursued his goal.

“Still beautiful?”

“Always,” he smiled back. “I mean, yeah, you’re a bit banged up, but it will go away. How are you feeling?”

“Achy. George, why can’t I move the rest of my body?”

“You’re in some sort of immobilizer- though if you ask me it’s a medieval torture device.”

Angelina went to move her right hand to swat him, but instead she had a sting of pain. She groaned out loud.

“That’s why you are in the torture device, love,” he teased.

“I bet you like that,” Angelina grimaced but teased back.

George’s face became completely serious very quickly. “Actually, no. This is killing me.” He leaned closer to her and grabbed her hand. “You scared me, Angelina. When I didn’t know how you were I was scared of losing you. Not so close to…”he said drifting off at the end.

Angelina squeezed his hand.  She knew and her eyes began to well up with tears. “Oh George,” was all she could say. And then, “I love you too.” It came out her mouth as if she was saying hello. It was natural. It was right.

George’s face lit up like he had received the best present on Christmas morning. He always had the ability to make Angelina laugh like a loon and his bright eyes, goofy grin and happy dance made her go into hysterics.

“George, stop it,” she pleaded. “It hurts to laugh.”

Bending to kiss her on the lips he said, “No way. Since I can’t pick you up and swing you around, I have to do something.”

“How about kissing me again then,” she challenged him.

And, like one to never back down from a challenge, George promptly sat on the bed over Angelina, placing one hand on her cheek and the other above her head. He teased her for a moment by bringing his lips close and then moving away, but he eventually placed his lips softly on hers. She responded in kind and their kiss deepened. Angelina wanted more of George’s kiss and, despite the pain in her right arm, she grabbed his body to pull him closer.

Neither of them heard the door open or heard Healer Hicks walk into the room.

“I guess our patient is up then,” he chuckled causing George to fly off Angelina and over to the wall. Both turned a bright shade of red.

“How are you feeling this morning, Angelina?” he asked as he stepped over to the bed.

“A bit achy,” she replied.

“Good, that’s normal.  You’ll feel that way for a few days as your body suffered a huge trauma. Did your fiancé fill you in on your injuries?”

Raising her eyebrows in surprise, Angelina shot a look at George who mouthed back “later”. She returned her eyes to the healer answering, “No, he didn’t. I guess he has a lot to tell me, “ she added snidely. She looked at George again who had turned an even deeper shade of red.

“That’s okay,” the healer chuckled. “What do you remember of yesterday?”

“Umm,” she thought. “I gave Carraby the death certificate and stood up. That’s about it. What happened?”

“You fell through the floor about 15 feet into another room. When you landed, you broke both of your ankles and your left wrist. It appears you tried to catch yourself in the fall. A part of the floor fell with you, but you were conscious enough to protect your head with your right arm. Unfortunately, it was big enough to still hit part of your head and it cracked your skull.”

Angelina’s mouth dropped open as she heard the list of injuries. She understood why George was so scared. She looked at him again, relieved he was there, and smiled. Not knowing what to say, she returned her gaze to the healer.

“Let’s take a look at your wrist, shall we?” Healer Hicks said as he tapped the clamps that were around her wrist with his wand. Immediately, she felt a pressure release her hand and she moved her fingers. The healer gently lifted her hand and turned her wrist. “How does that feel?”

“Fine.”

“Good.” He then held her hand up and slowly pushed it backward. “Tell me when you feel pain.” He didn’t get very far before Angelina winced. “Still tender, but everything is progressing as it should be. Let’s take a look at your ankles, okay?”

Angelina looked at George who was quietly watching. His brow, slightly furrowed, showed his concern and interest in her condition.

Healer Hicks continued his examination, with Angelina looking between George and the healer. George stood still and silent throughout which she didn’t think possible, but she loved his presence there nonetheless.

“Well, I’d say you’re in good shape,” he said pulling Angelina from her thoughts. “I’ll keep you here one more day and then you can go home,” he said smiling.

Angelina looked at George who was beaming and she felt so happy that she began laughing. He moved away from the wall to the bed, took her hand to kiss it and laughed with her. Despite her body aching all over, Angelina felt lighter than ever.

________________*********______________________********_____________________

“Why didn’t my family come to get me again?” Angelina asked George for what seemed liked the hundredth time as she got out the Ministry car.

“Because…” was all he replied.

Angelina let out a sigh in frustration. Every time she asked that question, he had the same reply. She was starting to get aggravated with him and her family.  She held onto George, as her ankles were still a bit weak, and together they hobbled to her door. George tapped the doorknob three times, pushed it open and then motioned for her to enter.

“Welcome home!” Angelina heard as soon as she crossed the threshold. Her heart jumped and did a flip in her chest, causing her to grasp the front of her blouse.

“My goodness!” she exclaimed as she saw the faces of her family and friends gathered in her living room.

“Did you plan this?” she asked George turning towards him.

“Of course. You know how I love an excuse to throw a party!”

Everyone laughed and Angelina made her way into the room. Her parents gave her a tight hug and a kiss.

“He really loves you,” her sister whispered in her ear as she gave a tight hug as well.

Angelina continued to move around the room, tenderly of course, and was surprised at the people who were there; Alicia, Lee, Oliver, the surviving members of Dumbledore’s Army, even some of her co-workers. She was overwhelmed.

“George,” Angelina softly said in his ear as he moved her away from Celinda. “I need a minute. Can we go to my room, please?”

George’s eyebrows went high into his forehead and his eyes twinkled mischievously.

“No, you git!” she laughed. “Get your head out of the gutter.”

“Whatever, Angelina. You did invite me to your room,” he teased as he led her down the hall.

“I just need a minute of peace. This is all so overwhelming,” she said as they entered the room. Angelina then sank onto the edge of the bed and sighed.

“It’s all because everyone loves you, Angelina,” he said, sitting next to her on the bed. “Mostly though,” he paused, softly grabbing her hand and kissing it, “It’s because I love you.”

Angelina’s heart melted. She leaned in to give him a soft kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered against his lips. “I love you, too.”


	8. Epilogue

  
Author's notes:

This is it! We have come to the end of this wonderful little story.  I want to thank everyone who read this, specifically my two favorite reviewers Melakem and Iris M. Your comments meant so much to me. I also want to thank my beta Risiepookie who encouraged, listened, help me get unstuck and is just overall a good friend. And, I know this might be cheesy, but a big THANKS to my husband who puts up with my Harry Potter obsession.

 

* * *

“George, you have to do this,” Angelina said sternly.

“I don’t want to,” he replied with an uncharacteristic whine. Angelina responded with a sharp look. “Oh, alright!” George answered but didn’t move a muscle. They were standing in Fred’s doorway with boxes in hand to clean out his room.

Putting down the boxes, Angelina turned to George and grasped his face with both hands. “Love, I know this is hard, but you and I won’t move on unless you do this.”

He nodded his head in acquiescence and they both entered the room. They stood silently, taking the room in.

“Where shall we begin?” George quietly asked.

“How about the easiest – his closet,” she responded brightly trying to sound up beat. Angelina was trying to keep his spirits up as she knew by cleaning out Fred’s room, George would finally be saying goodbye to his brother. He had been putting it off for nearly five months, despite the urging of his family. It took some hard convincing on Angelina’s part, but she finally got him to do it.

George moved over to the closet and opened it. He took out his wand and aimed it at the clothes.

“No,” Angelina said, putting her hand on his. “By hand. It will make saying goodbye easier.“  She knelt down and opened a box. Then, standing up, she grabbed one of Fred’s shirts, folded it nicely and placed it in the box.  She looked up at George who then mirrored her previous movements.

They continued cleaning out Fred’s closet for about an hour, laughing, crying – just plain reminiscing over things they found. The box labeled “keep” was soon full.

“I’ll get another box from the office, “George said in a much lighter mood from earlier. While he was gone Angelina decided to tour the room a bit. She brushed her fingers lightly along his dresser, then the bed, stopping at his desk. A picture of her and Fred at the Yule Ball was what made her pause. She picked up the photo frame and with her other hand, caressed Fred’s image.

She remembered this picture being taken. They were dancing closely when Lee came up to them. Angelina had never really looked at the picture and what she saw brought tears to her eyes. Lee had captured them holding each other and gazing into the other’s eyes, sharing a clear look of burgeoning love. Suddenly they both jumped and turned towards the camera. The intense look of love was now gone and replaced with joy and laughter. Angelina became lost in the moment of the memory as the scene in the picture reverted back to the beginning.

“He was so happy that night,” George said quietly, startling Angelina back to reality. “He said over and over, ‘I’m taking the hottest girl at Hogwarts’.” Angelina couldn’t help but chuckle despite slow tears moving down her cheek. “I was actually jealous of Fred.”

Shocked, Angelina turned her attention away from the photo towards George.

“Well, you were the hottest girl. And you loved Quidditch. Every man’s fantasy.”

His comment turned Angelina’s tears into peals of laughter. “Oh, stop you,” she said and they laughed together.

She put the photo frame back on the desk with a clunk and the noise suddenly stopped their laughter. They gazed at Fred and Angelina’s embrace, surprise and then laughter.

“You want that picture?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Why not?” George asked, turning to face her.

“I need to move on and I don’t know if it will help,” she answered honestly, turning her gaze to George while still fingering the photo.

Suddenly George was passionately kissing her. The electricity between them put Angelina on fire. Before she knew it, George was pulling away. She closed her eyes and pouted at the loss of contact.

“Won’t that help you move on?” he asked huskily.

Smiling and slowly opening her eyes, Angelina said, “Yeah. Kissing me like that will.”

She glanced at the photo one more time. She knew the pain from Fred’s death would lessen and it already had. It had blossomed into a love for George. She wasn’t replacing Fred with George. They were two different people who loved differently. She had been blessed to have the love of two Weasleys and the thought made her smile.

“Come on,” she said grabbing his hand. “Let’s take a break.”

Leaving the photo on the desk, Angelina led George out of the room.


End file.
